Carte Blanche
by Koriroko
Summary: He's an angel, one of the few that has decided to come to Earth. He falls for one of the children who has the blood of Ithuriel, and chaos ensues. /Clace, Clary/OC, takes place after CoHF, jealous!Jace/
1. Arc 1, Chapter 1

Author's Note: OC story. OC/Clary, Clary/Jace, maybe more pairings.

Reviews would be appreciated.

Hope readers enjoy!

* * *

Carte Blanche

Arc 1

Clary was standing outside her living room balcony and staring out at New York when she sees her stalker again. She leans on the railing, eyeing him down, but he doesn't move. Just looks up at her with a heavy silence.

"Clary, dinner's ready," Jace calls from inside. She backs away from the balcony, the cement floor blocking the stalker from her sight. This is his fifth time making an appearance. "Clary?"

"Jace, come out her," Clary says, and Jace comes up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"What is it? Come eat," he says, but she shakes her head, walking forward and taking Jace with her.

"That guy down him, I've been seeing him around. He's been watching me," she says, pointing down at the man. She makes it clear that she sees him, hoping he might get scared off. But the man doesn't move, he just keeps staring. Jace looks over the railing.

"Do you know him," Jace asks.

"No."

"I see," Jace says, sighing deeply. After a few tense seconds, he lifts a hand and waves. "I'll go talk to him."

"You do that," Clary says, and Jace turns to go inside. Clary stands on the balcony, her gaze not wavering. But the man didn't move, he stood like a statue, staring up at her. Feeling a shiver go down her back, Clary crosses her arms and watches, seeing Jace outside after a few minutes. She stares at his blond head, watching him cross the street to the man.

They talk for a few minutes. After a while, the mysterious man turns and walks away. Jace heads back into the building, and Clary goes inside to meet him.

"What did he say," Clary asks her boyfriend. Jace shrugs, taking off his jacket and laying it down on the couch.

"He says his home talks a lot about you, that he wants to meet you. I told him to stop stalking you like a creep, he said sorry. It seems you have an admirer," Jace says with a laugh, but his eyes narrow, his voice comes out tense. Clary nods, going to the dining room and taking a seat.

"Alright. Anything else," Clary asks, and Jace takes a seat slowly, grabbing his fork.

"I don't know. It was strange. He gave me a different vibe... not exactly bad. Just off. Felt like I knew him from somewhere," Jace says, lifting up his fork and taking a bite. Clary stares down at the spaghetti, twirling noodles around her fork.

"Think I should be worried?" Clary asks, looking up.

"I'll keep you safe," Jace answers. Clary nods, lifting her fork and taking a bite. The food was delicious.

* * *

Clary stands in front of her mirror, wearing shorts and a bra. She stands sideways, her hands running over her belly carefully. It had been two months, but there was no bump, no sign of the gift she desperately wanted. She turns to face the mirror fully, looking up at her freckled face, the delicate features that were now sharper, not as round as they used to be. Training more often really was doing something to her figure. She pulls on a T-shirt and walks out of the room.

"I'm going for a jog, Jace," Clary calls, grabbing her keys and moving to the front door.

"Love you," Jace says from his spot on the couch, where he was sharpening his favourite sword. Clary exits the building, jogging slowly to the direction of central park.

The light of sunset was shinning through the trees, casting an orange and gold glow on the side walk and grass. Clary breathes heavily, speeding up her pace as her eyes fly around, looking at the darkening bushes and the few people out in this area.

 _I see trees of green, red roses too._ Those lyrics were flying around in her head, the tune singing softly to her. She smiles and makes a turn, looking up a the evening sky. _I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself..._ Clary sighs deeply, a laugh escaping her. Why she was suddenly so happy was strange, she couldn't figure out why she felt so good-

"Help!"

It was a little girl's voice. Clary freezes, looking around the area. "Help!" The call was quiet, the voice scared. Clary reaches down and pulls out her knife; she had run into too many ambushes to run quickly to a voice immediately. She walks left, toward the sound, glancing through greenery and listening to the sound.

"Help!" It was so close. Clary moves through some bushes, finding a young girl, her tear filled eyes looking at Clary. "Help me!"

"What happened," Clary asks, lowering the knife. The girl points, her face filled with fear.

"A dog hurt my mom over there," the girl says, and Clary walks in that direction, keeping on eye on the girl. Peering over some bushes, she sees it; a bug-like creature the size of a cat, standing over an unconscious woman. Springing into action, Clary throws her knife and hits her mark, watching the creature shriek and fall onto its side.

She runs to retrieve her knife in case any more demons are around. The thing dissipates into a pile of ash, and even that collapses in on itself, going back to its home dimension. Clary looks around carefully, looking back at the little girl.

"Stay close," Clary commands before checking up on the unconscious woman. There were red bite marks on her body, blood slowly seeping out, and black stuff could be seen crawling through the veins. Feeling her heart fall, Clary swallows and taps the woman, but she doesn't move. Of course she doesn't move.

Clary looks back at the little girl, wondering what to do with her, when she hears hissing behind her.

Jumping into action, Clary wields the knife and spins around, lifting her leg to kick away another small demon. A shax demon, it gets back up and charges at her again. Clary ducks to the side, kicking it, then turns to grab the little girl, picking her up in one swoop and running back out through the bushes.

Clary springs, then sets the girl down. "Run," Clary commands, and the girl runs. Clary turns to find two more shax demons, charging after her. Clary crouches, feeling time slow down as she traces their movements, and times her dodge perfectly so she can slice one demon along its side. She brings the knife down on the second demon, its acidic blood splashing onto her arm.

Clary clenches her teeth and stands up, looking down at fading ash before scanning the area. And as expected, more demons make an appearance.

"Christ," Clary whispers, turning and taking off at a run. How was she going to fight them all? There was at least five. She moves in the direction of the girl, then changes her mind, turning right to lead the monsters away. She jumps through some bushes, crosses another side walk, before coming into an empty clearing. Breathing hard, she turns around.

The first demon comes and she cuts it down. Then two more, and she brings them down as well. Another, and she kicks it away so she can take on another that arrives.

"Fuck," Clary yells when one demon she thought she had taken care of pinches her leg, digging hard into the flesh. Furious, Clary brings the knife down through it, just as another jumps at her and takes her down.

Feeling burning, she looks down, seeing pinchers dug deep into her tummy. Gasping, Clary smacks the demon with the back of her hand, but it doesn't budge. She slashes it across its eyes with her knife, and it lets go, screeching. Feeling acid make its way up her throat, Clary resists the urge to vomit as she stands, her stomach bleeding.

"Fuck," Clary says again, a nervous laugh escaping her. She turns around and runs, making it fifty feet before stopping by a tree, bile coming up her throat. She winds up on her knees, her arms desperately trying to keep her up. She looks to the side, seeing more small demons coming for her. She closes her eyes.

 _Jace, Jace, Jace,_ that's all she can think about as she throws up again, not believing that this was it. This was more than likely how she would end. Defiantly, she tries to put herself up onto feet, her blood beginning to boil from the venom infecting her. _Jace, Jace, Jace-_

She takes a final looks at the demons, and a white light burns her eyes. She gasps, covering them, her eyes stinging and her skin warming. She curls up on the ground, holding her injured eyes. Heat radiates over her body. Was it the venom doing this? Was she seeing the light of death? Clary coughs, waiting for it to be over, and eventually it does end.

The grass was still under her, warm instead of cool. Her skin was still warm too, eyes still burning. Coughing, Clary can feel more vomit make its way out of her mouth as she rolls onto her back, hands over her eyes.

A soft hand touches her forehead soothingly. _Jace._ Clary opens her eyes, finding only blackness. A moan escapes her mouth as she rubs her eyes, blinking quickly. Was she blind now? The hand presses down on her forehead.

A shiver goes through her body. Then a shock, like she was hit by lightning. She gasps as her head clear, her nausea fades away, but the hand doesn't move. The hand heats up, almost to the point of burning, and Clary bats it away, rolling onto her side.

Almost immediately, she feels exhilarated. Like she could run a marathon. She jumps to her feet, blood racing, not feeling any pain from her wounds. Her eyes dart around the park, seeing no demons.

But there is a man.

He's kneeling over where she was just laying, gazing up at her with a happy smile. Feeling pumped up, Clary looks around for Jace, thinking he'd be there, but he isn't. Just the man is.

"What happened," Clary asks the obvious question first. He slowly stands, towering above her small body. She had always been short, but this man made her feel like a child. She looks him up and down, staring at the black clothes, the dark hair, recognizing him from somewhere.

"You were hurt, so I healed you," he answers her. She stares at him, taking a while to process his words.

"Hurt... are you a warlock?" she asks, looking him up and down again. Suddenly, she knows where she saw him; this was her stalker, the man that she had seen over the last couple days. He smiles kindly, shaking his head.

"I'm not a warlock."

"You're a stalker."

"No... well, yes, I am." He nods, looking around the field. "Why take on so many demons by yourself?"

"There was a little girl... oh shit, the little girl," Clary says, looking around as though she was still around. Clary walks in a circle, her hands trembling with energy, her mind running. This was too much to process all at once. But, as a shadowhunter, protecting mundanes came first. She had to find the little girl. She looks down, seeing no more blood running, trusting her wounds to be miraculously healed.

"I need to find someone," Clary says to the man, taking off at a run to where she was before. Going in the direction of where the girl went, finding the young girl with two policeman. Clary hangs back, watching as the girl tearfully talks to the men, tugging their hands toward where the unconscious woman was.

"There's no hope in the woman's life. I found her. She's gone," a voice says. Clary turns around to find the same mysterious man behind her. Clary swallows, nods. She already knew that. "The young girl will be in safe hands with those men. We can go."

"Go? Where? What are you doing here," Clary asks him. The man turns away, walking.

"You need to go home, Clary. Rest."

"Rest? But I'm fine," Clary says, looking down at her healed wounds. The man nods, waving her over, and she follows him. "Who are you? Why are you following me? And what are you?"

"I'm Anael. I'm following you because... I find you interesting," he says, glancing at her. She notices his face is slightly wet, tears are slowly running down his cheeks.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because that woman. She is gone now. But she's in a good place," he says, looking forward, his jaw hardening. Clary watches him as they walk.

"You know, stalking isn't appreciated. Are you sure that little girl will be okay?" Clary looks over her shoulder, but the girl and the police are gone from sight. Anael nods.

"She will be fine. Heartbroken, but safe."

"Stalking isn't appreciated."

"You already said that," Anael replies.

"You didn't seem to hear me."

"But I did," Anael looks at her, smiling softly. "I want to ask a favour."

"Ask away," Clary says, looking down at her hands.

"May I please stay with you?"

"What?" Clary looks at him. "Why?"

"To keep an eye on you. I shouldn't have used so much energy on you, I know you can feel it," he says, and Clary looks down at her hands again. She takes a moment to breathe deeply, and sure enough, she feels something in her blood. Something that was making her feel powerful. And it was making her warm too.

"I barely know you," Clary says, looking back at Anael. He nods.

"You will get to know me. I wish to stay with you a while."

"My stalker wants to stay with me," Clary says, laughing. This whole situation was strange indeed.

"Please, Clarissa. I have nowhere else to go," Anael says, the softest plea in his voice. She narrows her eyes.

"Jace... he talked to you earlier. You have family, don't you? He said you have a home. Stay with them," she says curtly.

"I can't go home right now. They are unsettled with me."

"I wonder why."

"Let me stay with you and I'll tell you why I'm here," Anael says. Clary bites her tongue, thinking the proposition through. A man, who was stalking her, saved her, healed her, now wants to stay with her.

"What are you, Anael? Shadowhunter? You have to be a warlock, you have no stele to heal me," Clary says.

"I'm an angel."

"No."

"Yes. Let me stay with you and Jonathan, and I'll tell you more," Anael says, looking back at her. Clary stares back, thinking the proposition through. He certainly didn't look like an angel. The only angel she knew was one hundred feet tall and golden. Then again, there was Ithuriel, who was as small as a human and could almost pass for one too, if he had no wings. Anael was such an unearthly name. _He could be telling the truth._

"... Fine. But, you have to answer my questions. And Jace's too," Clary insists.

"It is a deal."


	2. Arc 1, Chapter 2

Carte Blanche

Arc 1

"So, what exactly are you going to tell Jace," Clary asks Anael, pausing. The key was in her hand, ready to unlock the door, but she had no know how exactly her new friend was going to approach this introduction.

"I will tell him who I am, what I am, and ask to stay here," Anael says to her. Clary nods, opening the door and holding it open for Anael.

"Jace, come here, we have a guest," Clary calls out, taking off her jacket and hanging it on a coat rack, then takes off her shoes. Anael watches her for a few moments before copying, taking off his own jacket and hanging it up. Clary can't help but notice that his dark green dress shirt suited him well.

"Yes, Clary," Jace asks, coming around the corner and pausing when he sees Anael. "Mr. Stalker is back again I see," Jace says in clipped tone.

"Hello, Jonathan," Anael replies.

"Jace, this is Anael. He's, well..." Clary trails off, glancing between the two men. "Anael, tell him what you told me."

"I'm Anael. I'm an angel. I was wondering if I might stay with you guys for some time," Anael inquires, looking at Jace. Jace blinks, crossing his arms.

"You don't look like an angel."

"I resemble Ithuriel more than Raziel," Anael adds. "I believe you know him."

"Yeah, I know him. Can you... do something? Angelic?" Jace states, his eyes narrow. It was smart to ask for actual proof. Anael swallows, then holds out his hand. Jace and Clary stare, watching as the hand starts to glow, looking gold, the light traveling to the arm and then up his neck. Soon, he's glowing gold, but the effect only lasts a few moment before it stops. Clary lets out a breath.

When no one says anything, she says, "He's telling the truth, Jace. He saved me from demons. Healed me too."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier," Jace asks Anael, who lowers his head a bit.

"I felt unsure talking to you earlier."

"Why?"

"I just did," Anael looks back up, smiling. Jace looks at Clary, raising his eyebrows.

"Clare, you said you needed healing? What happened," Jace asks, the corners of his mouth turning down. Clary can't help but laugh, thinking about earlier. She shouldn't laugh at nearly dying, but it was such a mistake on her part that she was embarrassed.

"I ran into lots of demons. Quite a few of them. I would have died had it not been for Anael," Clary says, turning to the other man. Anael was watching Jace silently.

"I see... maybe, you can come in, we can all talk I suppose," Jace says, turning around and walking to the kitchen. Anael and Clary follow, sitting down at the island. Anael looks at the counter, seeing a bowl with one apple, a block with some knives in it, a magazine with art on the front. He grabs the magazine, seeing a female made up of colors of red and blue.

"Did you want anything to eat, Anael? Or drink?" Jace asks, looking at the angel.

"I would like to eat. And drink," Anael says. Jace nods and goes to the cupboard, grabbing a glass. Anael looks at Clary. "I have had only one meal since arriving. A hot dog, a lovely woman offered to buy one for me. We had a great talk."

"How long have you been here, Anael," Clary asks. The angel looks down at the magazine, his brows kniting together.

"Six days."

"Six days, and you've eaten once?" Clary lets out a breathy chuckle, and Anael looks up at her, his smile wide.

"Your laugh is nice. But yes, I have only eaten once. Right now, I require very little food. But, from personal experience, food is exquisite," he says, setting the magazine down and clasping his hands together. Clary nods, his compliment making her cheeks warm. Jace sets a plate of spaghetti in front of him, with a glass of coke.

"That's coca cola, it tastes alright," Jace says, taking a seat. Anael picks up the cup gently and sips, licking his lips afterward.

"It is good," he says, placing the glass down and taking the fork, picking up some spaghetti. The noodles fall of the fork, and he frowns. Clary reaches across the table, taking the fork from his hand and twirling noodles onto the end. Anael quickly copies her.

"The food is delicious too," Anael beams after three bites. Jace smiles proudly, leaning forward on the counter.

"Tell us, what bought you here," Jace says. Anael chews slowly, his expression thoughtful.

"I wished to see Earth. I have always wanted to, in the past, but angels are not supposed to interfere with this world. But recently, after what you call the mortal war, I had more reason to come here," Anael says. "I want to see the heroes that work on heaven's side. But, in all honesty, my other reason for coming here is selfish. I wanted to experience this way of living."

"How is it selfish," Jace asks. Anael smiles at him.

"Because, by being here, I am already influencing the world in a way I shouldn't. Simply for the sake of being in this world." Anael goes back to eating, and Jace looks at Clary. The two share confused expressions, neither knowing what they should ask the angel now.

"How long are you staying," Jace asks. Anael sets down his fork, looking back at Jace.

"I can be here for one-hundred eleven days," Anael answers.

"Why such a number," Clary says, and Anael smiles again.

"Because it is a special number. There is a geometry in all things. Numbers are important, I will show you guys sometime," Anael says, stabbing a meatball. "Geometry is merely another language, like the language of runes. All the old languages have meaning, they have knowledge. Knowledge is power."

"Interesting. What happens after one-hundred eleven days, do you just leave," Jace wonders.

"I can go home and never return to Earth for any selfish reason again. Or, I waste away. Or, I become a demon," Anael explains.

"Well, let's hope you don't become a demon. Weird question, would you prefer being a demon, or wasting away," Jace asks.

"What kind of question is that," Clary interjects.

"I would prefer to waste away," Anael responds. "Becoming a demon for the sake of not wasting away is selfishness itself."

"Good answer," Jace says. "And what are you planning to do during your time here?"

"See this world and help in the smallest of ways."

"How do you plan to help?"

"Heal people, send demons to their home."

"Alright," Jace nods, then he turns to Clary. "Do you think he should stay with us?"

"Of course, if he wants. We should take him to the Institute," Clary says. Maybe, just maybe, the rest of the clave would change their close minded ways if an angel talked to him about it. After all, Anael must care for downworlders, wouldn't he? The clave certainly didn't. "Anael, how do you feel about warlocks?"

"They are simply living beings. They deserve more respect then they get in this world," Anael states, looking straight at her.

"Would you be willing to talk to the clave," Clary asks him. Anael pauses, taking another bite before answering.

"Perhaps. I can't, however, reveal myself to mundanes, that is too much of a change. But I might be willing to talk to your government," Anael answers.

"Then I guess you shall. I'm going to the Institute tomorrow, care to join," Jace asks him, and Anael nods.

"I would love to."

"Okay. Now, when you finish your food, what do you want to do," Jace asks. Anael smiles, staring down.

"I haven't had a chance to sleep yet."

"I'll pull out the couch," Jace says, standing up and walking to the living room. Anael watches him go, then looks at Clary and smiles cheerfully. Clary smiles back and nods, clasping her hands together.

Tomorrow, they would go to the Institute. Tomorrow, Alec and Isabelle where coming back from Idris to visit, and Simon would come with them, taking his break from the Academy. Isabelle and Simon still weren't talking a lot, but Clary was determined to not let anyone spoil this visit. She squeezes her hands, and touches her belly, wondering whether or not this angel's arrival was a sign of good fortune. It had to be.

* * *

Clary was up in the morning, cooking eggs, glancing at the angel every now and then. He was sleeping peacefully on the couch, she had already checked up on him, nudging him slightly. He didn't wake though. She took note of his long dark eyelashes, the shoulder length curly hair. He sure did look like an angel from those old statues that sculptors so carefully built. She grabs three plates from the cupboard.

What were they going to do today? She might as well bring Anael with them to the Institute. Talk to Robert, explain Anael's purpose here. What kind of angel was he? Didn't angels have divine purpose?

How was she going to explain his arrival to Robert?

Finishing up the breakfast, she takes the plates to the dining room and sets them down, going over to check on Anael again. He had curved features, defined yet more babyish than Jace's. Soft features. As she is staring down at him, Anael opens his eyes and smiles up at her.

"Hello, Clarissa."

"Good morning, Anael. I've made breakfast," Clary says, taking a step back. Anael sits up, wiping his eyes.

"I was having such a wonderful dream."

"Tell me about it," Clary says, going over to the table and taking a seat. Anael follows her.

"Eggs and bacon," Anael declares happily, grabbing his fork. "It looks delicious. Thank you, Clary."

"You're welcome. So, do you pray before you eat," Clary asks, taking up her own fork.

"When you remember, one can pray for every second of the day," Anael responds.

"Indeed, one can," Clary says, copying his stateful tone. They eat silently for a few minutes, and when they are nearly done Anael sets his fork down, staring at the last egg. Clary chews carefully, her eyes on him.

"My dream. I was on a hill," Anael starts off. Clary swallows, listening intently. "I was looking at the sky, watching three giant eagles fly over. I looked toward the sun and saw you. You were smiling, wearing all white. A man held your hand, he was walking away, and you were going with him. The man was white, white hair, white skin. He was glowing."

"He did, did he," Clary replies, taking in a slow breath. White hair? She knew only two people with white hair, and they weren't the nicest people. Clary sets her fork down. "He was taking me away?"

"Yes. You were both happy, I know that," Anael answers. "I didn't get a good look at him. He was practically made of light. He seemed nice."

'Oh' was the only sound Clary let out. She looks down at her plate, thinking of her brother Sebastian. Her brother, the boy who tried to kill her. The boy she killed. The boy with demon blood running through his veins. Clary looks back up and watches Anael, who was eating his food again. What did this dream mean? If it meant anything? Surely, a light-filled figure meant good omens. Clary goes back to eating her food, lost in thought.


	3. Arc 1, Chapter 3

Author's Note: This chapter is quite long. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

Carte Blanche

Arc 1

"So, how are we going to approach Robert," Jace asks everyone. Clary looks at Anael, who is watching them silently.

"I don't think we should jump right into the truth. That might set Robert off, he hasn't met an angel like us. We should give it a day, let him warm up to Anael," Clary says.

"Sounds like a plan. We'll go after breakfast," Jace says, and the three fall into comfortable silence. Clary watches Anael closely. The angel is looking at Jace, wearing a slight smile that showed white straight teeth. Clary notes that his eyes are silver, not gold like the other angels she's met. What were his wings like? White, or gold? Maybe silver too. As she looks closer, she can see a golden line that curls just above his shirt collar.

"Are your runes always gold," Clary asks Anael.

"They are, yes."

"What do you do in heaven," Clary asks again. Anael looks at her with a bigger smile.

"I look after a section in the second heaven. Instruct my friends to their duties. And I look after humans, doing my best to encourage them to open their hearts," Anael responds proudly.

"What exactly is the second heaven," Jace asks him.

"There is the first heaven. You cannot see it, but it is here, on Earth, in another plane. The next one can be called space. It is where the planets and stars reside. And the third is where the source is. And all heavens are split up into different sections," Anael states. Both Clary and Jace sit back in their seats, taking this all in. Anael sighs deeply, "Perhaps, I shouldn't be giving you all this information."

"You probably shouldn't," Jace chuckles. "Gorgeous here can create runes, you must've heard."

"I've heard," Anael says as he looks at Clary, who lowers her head with a smile. "I can tell you what some are, if you make more."

"I think I can do that," Clary says.

"Now that I'm finished, we should be on our way soon. I'm just going to jump in the shower quick," Jace says, standing up and rinsing off his plate. Clary sighs, looking over her new friend. What else could she get out of him?

The three arrive at the Institute, heading immediately to the study where Robert Lightwood is. Clary looks around, immediately admiring the statue of Raziel. She can't help but compare it to Anael, who's jaw is softer than the other angel's. Clary takes a seat in front the desk, Anael copies her, and Jace sits on the desk itself.

"Robert, this is our friend, Anael. He has the sight," Jace says to Robert. They had all decided that, for now, they'd just tell Robert that Anael had the ability to see demons, shadowhunters, and downworlders, and that he was interested in learning more. Robert sets down the book he is reading, leaning back in his seat behind the desk to stare Anael down.

"Really? And what exactly is he here for," Robert says, clasping his hands together.

"To learn more about your culture," Anael responds. Robert nods, looking at Jace.

"I suppose we can house him here, keep him safe for now. Does he have any other plans," Robert looks over at Anael. "Such as becoming a shadowhunter?"

"For now, sir, I just want to learn more before I make any further decisions," Anael says. Robert nods, looking back at Jace.

"Care to give him a tour then? I am busy right now, we can discuss this matter later. Give him a room too, if he needs one." Robert picks up his book again. "I could also use some help rearranging some books."

"I would love to," Jace says, standing up. Clary stands as well, deciding to go with them. They exit the room, heading to the living quarters.

"What kind of room you feeling? Big bed? Small bed? Good view? You know, you are welcome to stay with Clary and me," Jace says, looking at Anael.

"Can I stay at both your places," Anael asks him.

"Not sure how you'll manage to do that, but sure. Today, you'll be meeting my parabatai, Alec. My sister, Isabelle. Our friend, Simon. And, Clary, Alec says there was a last minute change of plans," Jace says, looking at his girlfriend and wrapping an arm around her waist. "They're bringing Max with them."

"Lovely, he's so adorable," Clary says cheerfully.

"Max is a warlock," Jace says, looking at Anael. "My brother adopted him."

"A warlock adopted by a shadowhunter. Beautiful," Anael says quietly. Jace laughs loudly, looking at Clary, mouthing the word 'beautiful'. Clary playfully punches his chest.

The bedroom had a large bed with a dark red blanket. In the corner there is a footstool, in another there is a a wardrobe with a small dresser. The view looked over the garden. Vines with pink flowers were growing up the window's grating. Anael walks over to the other door in the room, opening it to find a white bathroom with red decor. There was even a small vase with a dried red rose.

"How's this for a room," Jace declares. Anael turns around and scans the room.

"It is nice," he replies. Jace sits down on the edge of the bed.

"As I said, you're welcome to stay with Clary and me."

"I will think on it," Anael says, going over to the stool and sitting down. Jace nods, looking at Clary.

"I'm going to go and check up on Robert again. Maybe show Anael around," Jace says, standing and leaving. Clary goes and sits down on the edge of the bed, smiling at Anael.

"Do you want to see the green house? I come and fix it time to time. It's pretty overgrown, but it's beautiful," Clary says. Anael nods, and the two stand and leave the room.

* * *

"Anael, what does Heaven think of me," Clary asks the angel. They were standing in the back of the greenhouse, looking over some of the more unique plants. He was staring at a flower, running a thumb over the soft orange petals.

"They think you're an angel," he clarifies. She moves closer to him.

"Is that it?"

"That's it. There is nothing else to say. They think you're brave. And beautiful. That last part is probably just me though," he says calmly, moving onto a plant with blue-grey leaves and purple stems.

"Thank you, Anael. You're very kind."

"You're very welcome." Anael steps back from the plant, looking at her. "May I have some food again."

"I don't see why not... damn, I still have to go grocery shopping. The group won't be arriving until lunch anyway. Want to go shopping with me," Clary asks him. He nods eagerly, and the two start making their way out.

"Anael, what do you like most about Earth," Clary asks, looking up at him. He grins back at her.

"I like the art of it. The poetry of it all. So much hate, yet people are still kind in the smallest ways. It's hard to pick just one singular thing that I like," he says.

"You have colorful answers," Clary says to him. In the hallway, she looks at some paintings on the wall, flowers, skeletons, angels and humans in long robes.

"Clary, would you want to travel with me? You and Jace? It would be less lonely," Anael asks her. She nods, says _of course_. Why wouldn't she? She passes another statue of the angel Raziel.

"What is Raziel like?" Clary turns to look at Anael. "What does he do?"

"What other important angels do. Advises. Makes decisions. He's great at making small moves that have a large impact... I'm not even sure how to describe it." Anael turns a corner, glancing at another angel statue. "He's very professional, not vain at all. He can come across as cold, with his manner, but he has a huge heart."

"Strange, angels having personalities."

"I suppose," Anael sighs, his eyes lingering on a painting of a shadowhunter, bringing a sword down on a demon. "I hear your an artist, Clary."

"I am."

"Show me your work. I'd love to see it in person," Anael says, chuckling. "In person. How strange, that I'm seeing everything from a human experience."

"Strange indeed."

* * *

Anael's eyes were darting everywhere when they were at the food market. Clary was grabbing different foods, apples, lettuce, hoping to make interesting dishes for her friend to try. She really wanted to make him stir fry, that was on the top of the list. Grabbing some rice, she looks at him, seeing him watch her.

"You stare at me a lot," Clary says, turning away.

"Because you're pretty. You have a pretty soul."

"Don't let Jace hear you say that," Clary laughs lightly, walking to the cashier. She pays for her food, feeling the angel's eyes on her. Feeling a blush creep up on her face, Clary walks away, leading the way.

"Why should I not let Jona- Jace hear me talk of you in such a high manner? Is it because of jealousy? He should not be jealous, he has your heart," Anael says to her. She looks back at him, shrugging.

"It is just being polite to Jace's feelings."

"I see."

"Where will we go from here," Clary says looking around. There was plenty of people, near the entrance to the market was a woman with a stroller, and another woman sitting in a wheelchair, having a smoke. Anael doesn't respond to her, instead hesitating by the entrance to stare at the disabled woman.

"Clary, I want to do something about that. It's so sad," Anael says, staring at the woman. Clary pauses, standing and looking at her friend with the sad face.

"It happens all the time, Anael."

"I know. It is sad to see it in life though," Anael says, standing still. After a few seconds, he walks over to her, leaning down and resting a hand on her shoulder.

"What happened to your legs, sister," Anael says to the woman.

"I got sick, in the spine," the woman says, looking up at him with a cautious gaze. He nods, letting go of her shoulder.

"May I, please, give you a kiss," Anael says to her. The old woman immediately blushes, ducking her head.

"Kind sir, of course you may. I haven't been asked that in so long," she says, laughing. Anael leans forward, planting a kiss on the woman's forehead. The woman lets out a small gasp, leaning back in her chair with a jolt. Her legs twitch at the movement, and she lets out a long sigh. "What did you just do?"

"I gave you a kiss, sister," Anael says, backing away and walking. Clary follows him, looking back at the woman who had a pleasant smile on her face, staring at the angel.

"Why did you kiss her," Clary says quietly to Anael.

"She will be walking again soon," he answers. Clary looks back at the woman, feeling her heart soar. _She will be walking._ Clary looks at her friend, smiling hugely.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"I can't believe either," Anael mumbles, his brows knitting together. Happily, Clary grabs his hand and squeezes tightly. He squeezes back.


	4. Arc 1, Chapter 4

Author's Note: This chapter is quite lengthy. Haha 'lengthy'. Reviews are appreciated, that way I know someone's actually reading this.

* * *

Carte Blanche

Arc 1

"Stupid shadowhunters," someone says beside Clary. She turns to look at the voice that interrupted her good moment. She and Anael were walking back to the Institute, groceries in their hands, only to be blindsided by a hateful comment. And, after Clary looks the female over, she can see a fae made the comment.

"Excuse me," Anael says, stepping forward. The fae glares up at him.

"There's a demon attack going on at this very moment! And your just having a normal day! Shadowhunters could give less of a shit about us," she says, her teeth clenched together. Anael looks up and around, seeing no demons.

"Where are the demons," he says, and the woman turns around, taking off at a takes off after her. Clary follows, holding tightly to her bags, staring at the back of the fae. She had pretty pink wings... Clary shakes her head, trying to stay on target. _A demon attack. Another one._

The come to an alley, where a male fae with soft green wings is standing crouched over a body. He looks up at them, distastefully looking at Anael and Clary.

"Took you guys long enough. _You_ guy are supposed to be the demon hunters. Yet, he we are, fighting," the male says, slowly standing. The female looks down at the body on the ground, and Clary does too. The fae's eyes are closed, the chest covered in two deep cuts, deep enough that it's hard to see how bad they really are.

"Excuse _me,_ " Clary mumbles, and Anael holds up his hand to stop her from commenting further. He leans over the fallen fae, lightly touching the wounds. Blood was leaking out, gathering in a puddle on the cement.

"Where are the demons," Anael asks. The male points down the alley.

"Some went that way. We killed most of them though." The fae crosses his arms, glaring at Anael. "You guys should have come sooner. But you really don't care about our kind. Which is strange, considering that we're on the brink of war with each other. _But you don't seem to care._ "

Anael doesn't comment. He presses down on the wound hard. The fae make sounds of protest, but after a few seconds the fae on the ground suddenly opens his eyes, gasping. He sits right up, as though his chest isn't cut open. "How do you feel," Anael asks him.

"I feel... really good," the fae says, smiling. He looks at Anael. "What did you do to me?"

"I healed you. Take it easy for the next while," Anael says, standing up and walking past the fae, whose mouths are agape. Clary follows Anael, glancing at the fae on the ground. She looks forward and smiles at the angel, who is taking off a slow jog down the street. She follows, knowing the demons will be sticking to the shade. Surely, they shouldn't have gotten far.

They walk up and down the next few blocks, but find no demons. Anael is frowning, eyes scanning the area, but they were on a near empty street with a few people minding their own business. No screams, no shouts of horror. Just peace and quiet.

"I should track that demon," Anael says, closing his eyes.

"Why didn't you do that before?"

"It takes up my energy."

After a few silent seconds, Anael takes off at a sprint. Clary follows, trying her best to keep up. He winds up and down alleys, crosses a street and nearly gets hit in the process. Soon, she loses him though, and all Clary can do is wander around at a jog, her eyes searching for him.

Clary finally finds him standing alone. He's in the middle of the street, a taxi honking at him, not moving from his position. Tall buildings are up on each side, blocking the road from the sun. She runs up to him and nudges him with her shoulder, edging him to the sidewalk.

"Find them?"

"I already killed them," Anael says. Clary thinks back to the demons who attacked her, remembering the bright white light.

"You kill them with light?"

"Heavenly fire," Anael clarifies. Clary nods, looking around and seeing no witnesses. If anything, all mundanes would see would have been a dog or cat that suddenly disappeared in a flash of light. He hesitates on the side of the street, then looks at her. "I feel weaker already."

"What do you mean," she asks him, and he shrugs, turning away.

"There are different rules when an angel comes to Earth, depending on the circumstance. If an angel is summoned, which is a loophole that allows us to be here, then they may stay indefinitely. But when an angel comes of their own free will, the consequence is that they may become slowly weaker. Their ties to heaven slowly fade," he says, turning to walk down the street. He was showing no outside signs of weariness. "I've healed people twice today, and now I've just channeled heaven's power through a physical body. It has tired me."

"You should rest when we get back to the institute," Clary says to him. He nods, and they walk back in silence.

* * *

Clary and Anael immediately go to the study, where Robert and Jace are, as well as the newcomers. Clary grins and runs forward to hug her best friend, Simon, saying his name softly and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"You guys made it," she says happily. She moves on to hug Isabelle tightly, then gives a friendly nod at Alec, who had a bundle in his hands. Clary walks over, looking past the soft pink blanket.

"Max," she says, chuckling. The small baby warlock had dark blue skin and dark hair, and his eyes were wide open and smiling up at his new dad. Alec smiles, rocking the baby softly.

"You guys, we should all move to the dining room to talk," Robert says loudly. Everyone nods, chatting away, some people glancing at Anael with questioning eyes. Anael trails behind the group, sticking his hands in his pockets. That gesture was normal, wasn't it? The group chats, and he takes the time to analyze everyone.

Robert was ahead of the group, but Anael noticed a gaze of slight distaste when he looked at the warlock.

The boy holding the warlock had blue eyes and black hair, and he obviously didn't care about Robert's opinion. All he cared about was the bundle in his arms.

Clary was walking next to the black haired boy, chatting happily with him.

Behind those two was Jace, talking to a brown haired boy that, if Anael recalled correctly, was called _Simon._ So that was the boy that had helped to summon Raziel, and once had the mark of Cain on his forehead.

And the second-to-last one walking at the back was a girl. All Anael could see of her was long dark hair, a bright pink dress and red heels. She was alone, and silent.

All in all, the group seemed alright. Yet, there was a tension that Anael could feel, so he decides, rather selfishly, to scan the minds of the younger crowd in the room. A gift that some angels had, to varying levels of skill. Raziel was best at is, as the angel of mysteries, it made sense that he could pull the mysteries from someone's mind. As for Anael, as the angel of joy and pleasure associated with love, he could read the love of everyone in this room.

And what he finds is interesting.

The silent girl was in love with the brown haired boy, yet she held heavy feelings of something the opposite of love for him as well. And the brown haired boy, he had love for Clary, _and_ love for the silent girl. Jace's feelings of love for Clary were very clear, yet he held strong camaraderie love for all the people in the room. The boy with the baby warlock was very focused on the baby, and vice versa.

Deciding that was the end of his prying, Anael retreats back into his more human senses. They had arrived at their destination anyway.

* * *

In the dining room, everyone was enjoying a drink and pizza, with Simon sharing a story.

"So, this mundane boy runs into me, and in two seconds I swung out my leg to bring him to the ground," Simon laughs. "And he just looks at me, like, 'damn, I didn't know you were an undercover cop!'"

"Try being more conspicuous, Si," Clary says, leaning back in her seat. She looks at Isabelle, who is silent and cold looking. Clary lets out a sigh.

"Come on, that's awesome," Jace says, smiling at Simon. Alec shakes his head.

"She's right, we're _shadow_ hunters, emphasis on shadow. Not middle-of-the-day fighters who take down mundanes," Alec says.

"I refuse to be hidden. Why hide someone as good as myself from the world," Jace laughs, and Alec lightly hits his arm. Clary grins, looking at Robert, who is sitting silently and watching them with a tired look.

"Enough of the narcissism, Jace," Isabelle comments. Jace rolls his eyes, and Isabelle smirks. Clary turns to look at her.

"So, what have you been up to at the Academy," Clary asks her. She shrugs, brushing a strand of hair aside.

"Helping the newbies train, that's about it. Is anyone going to introduce our new friend," Isabelle says, turning to look at Anael. He smiles at her.

"I'm Anael."

"You a shadowhunter?"

"No, I'm not," he says, and everyone turns to look at him.

"So, why are you here?" Alec asks him.

"I... have the sight," Anael lies. Actually, technically, it was true. Everyone nods, and Alec turns to Robert.

"Dad, is he staying with us for a while?"

"He is," Robert says, looking at Anael, crossing his arms. "In fact, I haven't had much of a word with our new friend. Anael, why don't you tell us about yourself."

"I grew up with a brother, in New York. One day, I came across a demon, which Clarissa sent back home. And Robert has gratefully offered me a room. I have taken an interest in nephilim," Anael says, placing his elbows on the table. "I wish to learn more, and see how I fit into your world."

"You just reminded me of what happened earlier," Clary says, taking her glass and sipping .She looks at the rest of the table with a nervous smile. "We ran into some angry fae earlier, they were attacked by a demon."

"Strange, the demon attack rates have been going up. Be sure to make a note of that later," Robert says, sipping at his own glass. Jace looks at Clary, grimacing.

"Are you alright?"

"Obviously, Jace," Clary says. "The fae indicated the fact that we're on the verge of war with them. Something has to be done about that."

"It will be done, the clave is discussing it," Robert responds.

"Something must be done quicker."

"And it will be, Clarissa. It's a matter of politics, and how much our races get along," Robert continues. "These kinds of things cannot be rushed."

"I just hope it'll all be settled soon," Clary sighs.

"Do you know what fae are, Anael?" Isabelle turns with a sly smile. "They are quite the creatures to interact with."

"I am well aware of all downworlders," Anael answers. Isabelle nods, and holds up her drink.

"I say we toast, to our new guest," Isabelle says, sending a wink Anael's way. He can feel her presence seem to turn toward him, taking an interest. Not knowing what else to do, he raises his own glass, smiling back at her kindly. Everyone raises their glass, says 'to Anael', and takes a sip. Anael sets his glass down, feeling the lingering taste of liquor in his mouth. Wine. Fruity. Almost sour. Cold. He can feel it going down throat, hitting his stomach.

At the end of it all, Simon and Clary leave with each to catch up. Isabelle and Alec go to their rooms. Jace stays behind with Robert and Anael having another glass.

"Anael, you must tell me more about yourself. That's an interesting name, what is it's origins?" Robert takes a long sip, eyeing Anael.

"I believe most would call it biblical," Anael replies.

"Biblical. Angelic. The irony of that, now that you're becoming more involved with our kind. Have you always had the sight?"

"No, I have no, this only happened recently," Anael responds.

"How odd," Robert comments, his expression thoughtful. He looks at Jace. "Where did you guys say you found him again?"

"Clary found in central park. She took him home, he had dinner with us, slept over. He was pretty shaken up, over that demon," Jace chuckles, grinning at Anael. The angel smiles and nods, and Robert laughs too.

"I'll say. Must have been frightening, your first encounter with a demon. I'm not sure if Clary or Jace has told you, but mundanes- people who are not shadowhunters or downworlders- have a chance at becoming one of us. The sip from the mortal cup, and if they can handle the change, then they do so. Still, we don't give the cup to older fellows," Robert says. "How old are you?

"Twenty-three," Anael responds. He could pass for twenty, or twenty-five, that he knew. Robert nods, taking a sip from his drink.

"That might be a little too old. And you would have to undergo rigorous testing before actually drinking from the cup and ascending. Still, you could always be a servant, or guard, of the institute," Robert says with a smile. "Work here, it can be a new experience."

"That will work fine," Anael says. "What would I start to do?"

"Well, I'd teach you more about our world, send a letter to the clave, ask if you're told old for the ascension. For the time being, you can remain here. Me, or even Jace and Clary, can teach you."

"That would be nice," Anael nods, looking at Jace, who was glancing at his watch. The blond looks up at both of them, smiling.

"I hate to do this, but it's getting late. I want to see Clary," Jace says. Both the angel and Robert nod. Jace gets up and starts walking, pausing by Anael.

"Are you coming, Anael?"

"I think I'll sit here and chat with Robert," Anael says. Jace pauses, nods, then leaves the room. The angel sips from his glass, noting that the more he drinks, the less harsh the taste is. He really was enjoying this. "Robert, how long have you worked here?"

"A long time... almost twenty years."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Well, yes. It's nice, being in charge of something. Especially when it comes to the welfare of the people we're trying to protect," Robert nods, sipping from his drink. Anael nods, deciding to read the man. He was a decent looking guy, dark hair with gray showing on the side. A few lines on his face, Anael would have to say they were worry lines. A nice suit. But what he read about the guy was strange. It was... sadness. He felt love in him, certainly, but distant. Like he was pushing something aside.

"Do you have a wife, Robert," Anael asks quietly. The man blinks, leaning away.

"Why, yes. For now, at least."

"Why 'for now'?"

"We're getting divorced," Robert says dryly. Anael feels his heart from, the corners of his mouth turn down.

"That's truly terrible. What happened?"

"It's a long story," Robert says, smiling. The grin doesn't reach his eyes. Robert looks away, to the side, and Anael stares silently.

"Tell me more, Robert," Anael says. He manipulates the conversation, trying to leach some of his angelic power out, sending feelings of calm to the man. Robert looks back at him, frowning.

"It just... didn't work out."

"On your part, or hers," Anael says, trying to mentally coax the truth out.

"Both. Hers. No..." Robert suddenly becomes silent, looking down at the table. In a matter of seconds he looks like he suddenly ages a couple years. The imaginary weight on his shoulders was obvious. "It was mine."

"What exactly did you do?"

"I... well, I had an affair," Robert laughs suddenly, his face lighting up. Anael swallows, understanding this man probably has difficulty dealing with emotion, if he was laughing. "But it wasn't all my fault. After the circle was destroyed, she become so cold, so cruel, very strict with the children. The warmth disappeared from her."

"The circle," Anael breathes out. He knew about that group, heard of it in heaven, of the man Valentine who was trying to overthrow the shadowhunter government, the man who summoned Ithuriel and tortured him. Anael didn't spend much time with Ithuriel, but still, he was like family. Like blood. Anael feels anger creep up in him, but he pushes it aside, knowing it has no use here.

"She was unloving. So I... drifted away from her. I found that love in someone else," Robert mumbles, and he downs the rest of his glass. "I'm talking too much."

"No, by all means, let it out," Anael says quickly. "When one doesn't feel love, it's only natural to try and seek it in other people. All beings crave love, even the divine ones."

"Alright," Robert sighs deeply, rubbing his forehead. He stares at Anael with an awkward smile. "I've told you way too much."

"You've told me way too little," Anael replies. He remembers earlier, the looks Robert was giving little Max. "Do you like Max? The warlock?"

"I don't hate him."

"But you don't like him."

"You see, it's not my fault," Robert says, sitting back up. "I'm a shadowhunter. We were raised to show animosity toward warlocks, regardless if their babies."

"But, as a human made by god, you were created to love all beings," Anael argues back. "Love _all_ beings."

"I guess. If you believe in god."

"You don't believe in god? Yet, you, a nephilim made by Raziel, sit here before me?"

"Well, I have never seen the angel in person, like my children have. How can I be so sure?"

"Just look around and you'll see the miracles of god," Anael presses on, leaning forward. "You live on a rock floating in outer space, around a ball of fire, with another rock that moves the ocean, and everything you need to live is here, easily accessible to you, and you don't believe in god?"

"You seem like a hardcore Christian," Robert counters back. Anael leans back in his seat, sighing.

"If you ever saw an angel, would your opinion change, Robert?"

"Anael, if I ever saw an angel, I think I could believe in just about anything again," Robert replies.


	5. Arc 1, Chapter 5

Author's Note: An Interlude, staring a demon and an angel, important to the story. Enjoy!

* * *

Carte Blanche

Interlude

The tiny demon scours across the dirty land, sniffing and searching. _Food, food, food_. It's stomach was yearning for something, hungry. Food would not satisfy it, but it could temporarily relieve the hunger.

It climbs over a rock, looking around. Two other demons are fighting in the distance. Growling, the tiny demon leaps down and circles far around them, heading to a leaning tower. Home base.

Inside, it crawls around, hissing softly. Up stairs, no, not up there. To the back where more demons are, it needs company now. No, not there, other demons might be in a bad mood. To the front again then, but there's nothing out there-

The sound of scraping comes from the left. The demon turns, seeing another of its kind dragging something. Interested, the demon approaches, but the other demon hisses. The small demon backs away, taking off.

The demon's name was once Air. Something like that. Maybe it was Are. Or Arrrr. It can remember a pretty place with tall grasses and a golden sky. Air can remember tearing the grass, digging in the ground and throwing dirt. So Air was thrown from the pretty place.

Now Air was here, searching for that nice feeling. Air didn't know what the feeling was, but it was warm, fuzzy. But there was no warmth, no happiness in this dark world.

Air scrambles around, searching, sniffing, growling, looking up at the billowing black clouds above. Sometimes flashes of light came down from the clouds, with noise loud enough to make the ground shake.

Finding a nice little alcove, Air rests, curling up and leaning its head on the dirt. Growling can be heard in the distant. Sometimes the shrieks got loud, very loud, and Air would join the others, screaming and jumping and attacking random objects with them. It was fun, to destroy things. Rip them to pieces, it gave Air a good feeling.

A soft breeze comes, along with a different smell, one that didn't smell of death or ash. It smelled fresh. Air lifts its head, searching, climbing back onto its legs to follow the scent.

Another breeze blows, bringing more pleasant smells, bringing warmth. Air scuttles quickly, moving quicker and quicker. The scent and wind gets stronger. Air finds himself in a large open area, and in the middle of the space itself was a crack.

It was floating in mid air, it was small, and through the crack, a warm light was shining. Air retreats back, feeling the light brush over him, burning the skin. Air stares at the crack, knowing that warmth, remembering it from a place long ago.

Yet, Air feels... hate. Hate for that terrible bright light. Air jumps up and down, growling, turns in a circle. What would Air do to make this light go away? Air didn't want the warmth anymore, not if that light was going to burn.

Then Air gets an idea.

 _Masssster. Massster can get rid of it._ Master was the most powerful in this world. Master can do anything. Master can take his blue flames and attack this light, send it back to where it came from. Excited, proud to have something to give to the Lord, Air turns around and scuttles away, toward the distant tower that rested in a canyon. There, he could bring Master, and the light could be gone from existence.

* * *

Curiel is staring up at the puffy gold clouds, feeling white light bathe her. No one was around, and this world was so large, so vast, she had enough time for herself. To take a break before following her teacher. She was learning about the importance of the different heavenly steels, how they were used, how they could be used. Construction, that is what she's learning. Soon, she can start building new homes for the human souls to come home too.

Feeling a powerful presence above her, she opens her eyes and sees a figure bathed in white, six large winds spreading out across the sky. _Zadkiel._ Zadkeil was much larger than her, much more grand. Zadkeil stood in the presence of the source, where Curiel stood in the presence of humans. Her status was lower, much lower.

So why had Zadkiel come to her?

" _Good day, sister."_

" _Good day, brother,"_ Curiel answers. _"What do you bring?"_

" _A message,"_ Zadkiel replies. No words were spoken from their mouths, the words came from their minds. _"Anael has taken to the human world."_

" _I know."_

" _A rip has exposed heaven to the Earth, the one containing the blood of Ithuriel. Another rip has occurred, due to the balance. A rip from this Earth, to Edom,"_ Zadkiel goes on to say. Curiel sits up, staring with wide eyes. A rip to Edom? How big of a rip?

" _What can go through this rip,"_ Curiel asks. Anael was the angel, ruling over the second hierarchy of heaven... the rip in hell must be equal to that. The balance must always be maintained. Curiel can imagine hoards of demons spilling from hell, onto the fresh green fields and beautiful forests of the Earth.

" _Asmodeus himself,"_ Zadkiel answer. Curiel feels a chill. A prince of hell, on the Earth plane? They had to let Anael know. Get him back here. Curiel stands.

" _What will we do,"_ she asks.

" _You will inform Anael. Slip through the portal, but before that... you will see Raziel. For a sword."_

"A sword," Curiel says out loud. _A sword._ She had no sword yet, no knives or bow. She didn't have that privilege, why would a builder of heaven need weapons? Curiel spreads her wings, some soft pale yellow feathers falling. Wondering why she was called on for this important task, Curiel looks up again.

"Why am I given this task?"

" _Our Lord has wished it,"_ Zadkiel responds. So that's why. It was creator's plan for her to perform this simple task. Feeling an emotion that is best described as giddy, Curiel nods and smiles up at Zadkiel.

"I will do my best to perform."

" _I know."_ In a flash and a gentle breeze, Zadkiel is gone. Curiel looks around, not minding that her break has been interrupted. She was to be given a weapon, she was going to the human world, and she would be talking to two different archangels soon. Feeling confident, Curiel takes to the sky, heading to the portals of the second heaven eagerly. _Asmodeus can go to Earth. Asmodeus can go to Earth._ Curiously, Curiel wasn't as terrified of that as should be. The rip to hell, how could it be closed? Another building angel would need to be called to shut it, one more powerful than her. She would tell her plans to Raziel when she arrives.


	6. Arc 1, Chapter 6

Author's Note: I've posted two chapters this time. Enjoy.

* * *

Carte Blanche

Arc 1

Anael wakes up in the early morning, immediately going to Clary's room. He finds her sleeping, with Jace on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. Anael walks in, taking a seat on the stool and looking at his tired face.

"Good morning, Jace."

"Good morning, Anael. What are you doing today?"

"Talking to Robert later. And you guys?"

"I don't know. Maybe train. Do a few rounds around the city. Simon wants to teach me how to drive," Jace says, laying back down on the bed. Anael nods, standing up.

"Train with me."

"Train with you?" Jace looks up at Anael, raising his eyebrows. "Really?"

"You two talk so loud," Clary mumbles into the pillow. Jace stands up and takes a black shirt off a chair, pulling it on over his head.

"Sorry babe. When are you taking the groceries home?"

"Later," Clary sighs, sitting up and wiping her face. She smiles at Anael. "You gonna teach Jace some moves?"

"I'll try," Anael says, and Jace stands up, walking to the door.

"Let's do it now, while I'm still energized from my sleep," Jace says. Anael follows him out, and they head to the training room together. "I can't believe I'm going to spar with an angel."

"I'll go easy on you."

"I see the angel has a sense of humor," Jace chuckles, looking over his shoulder and winking. "I'll try and go easy on you too."

In the training room, Anael immediately walks over to the wall of weapons, picking a staff. He balances it on his hand, feeling his heart jump. It was simple, just plain wooden, nothing fancy on it. No spear. He didn't want to hurt Jace. He turns to his friend, seeing him grab his own staff, with black leather wrapped around the ends.

"Are all angels born knowing how to fight?" Jace looks at Anael, and the angel shakes his head.

"The more powerful ones, created in the blink of an eye, do. I'm almost one of them." Anael twirls the staff, his heart racing a bit. "I was created on the higher tiers of heaven. So I was made from energy. But I went to the lower levels, took on a corporeal form, in order to be trained by my father."

"Father? You mean God?"

"No. He's not really my father. But he's the one who looked after me. His name is Michael," Anael says, turning to face Jace. Jace lets out a whistle, his eyes wide.

"You mean I'm sparring with someone who was trained by the so called general of Heaven? Go easy on me," Jace says, taking up a defensive stance. Anael copies him.

"Michael told me some things about you guys, when I wasn't watching the Earth myself. Said his sword was loaned out to you," Anael says. Jace nods.

"That sword holds some deadly fire power."

"You need it when you're a leader," Anael says, lifting his staff. Jace lets out a slow breath, lifting his own weapon. In a flash, Jace attacks, and Anael blocks the hit effortlessly. Jace strikes a few more times, increasing the hardness of his blow with every hit. Anael blocks every one of them.

"You aren't fighting back," Jace says, pausing. Anael nods, lets Jace try and get a few more moves in, before the angel advances and hits back. Jace blocks the first few, but Anael moves to the side, keeping low, and hitting Jace very lightly. Jace laughs, jumping back, then moving forward again.

Anael is impressed with how the nephilim is keeping up. The more the continue, the faster both of them move. Hitting, blocking, the cycle repeats. Jace tries out some fancy moves, and Anael can't help but smile. His blood is pumping. His muscles are getting warm, working. He can feel his own power surge, but he tries to hold it back. The heavenly fire pushes in him, demanding to be released. But Anael did say he was going to go easy.

"Come on, angel boy, keep up," Jace huffs when he nearly gets Anael. The angel grins wickedly, and in a flash he has Jace on his back, the staff against his throat.

"Who's moving slow now," Anael whispers. Jace snorts, and a slow clapping can be heard. Both men look see Clary standing in the doorway.

"You guys can keep going for quite a while," she calls out. Anael shakes his head. The battle felt like it only lasted a minute. He helps Jace to his feet.

"Do you want to spar with me, Clary," Anael says, turning to her. She hesitates, but nods, nervously walking forward. Jace hands her his staff.

"Go easy on her, Anael."

"You know I will, Jace."

Clary and Anael stand in front of each other. She strikes out, Anael blocks. She pauses, her expression thoughtful, then strikes low. Pauses again. Anael can tell she's thinking, planning, trying to use her brain to figure this out.

"You have angel blood, it's in your veins to be a warrior," Anael speaks to her. She nods, striking again.

This fight was much slower. She was inexperienced, Anael knew from his knowledge that she wasn't raised a shadowhunter. She was raised like most mundanes, wasn't trained for long. Not until she got swept up into the shadowhunter world. So, he takes it slow, easy, but fights back, keeping her on her toes but not hurting her. Not sending her to the ground. He didn't want that.

Her movements pick up, she gets quicker, even attempts some bold moods. Anael finds himself smiling again, backing away. Jace is quick, a natural. But Clary is a natural too. More tactical.

But after a period of time, not wanting to hold back anymore, Anael sweeps toward the ground with his staff. She jumps over it, he hits her shin. She stumbles, and he used the side of the staff and presses against her chest, knocking her down, and he follows her, landing on top of her.

"Shit," Clary huffs quickly, and she laughs up at him. Anael grins, lifting the staff off her chest. He takes notice of her nice smile, happy that she's feeling good instead of upset with him for taking her to the ground. He sets the staff aside, not standing up yet.

"You were great, Clary."

"Thanks, Ani," she says. Jace clears his throat in the background, and Anael stands up off of her. She rolls onto her knees. "Can't believe I just got my ass kicked by an angel."

"Join the club," Jace says, approaching them. "Should have been expected though. And here I was, thinking I was the best fighter."

"One of the best nephilim fighters," Anael says. "I'm faster. More stronger. More experienced."

"I need some breakfast now," Clary says, walking to the wall and putting the staff back. Anael follows too.

"What are you feeling, Anael? Eggs and bacon? Or pizza," Jace says with his hands on his hips. Anael shrugs.

"Anything is fine."

"Pizza it is then," Jace says cheerfully, and Clary shakes her head but doesn't say anything. Anael smiles, crossing his arms. The power inside him is burning, but he can still it easily. He is used to keeping a calm mind. Still, there was a heavy yearning to keep on training, to attack and defend and conquer the opponent, to move until these physical muscles burned. But right now, what he wants is to have pizza again with the two new friends.

* * *

Anael already knows all the facts Robert is giving him, even knows more than the other man does. But he stays silent on this matter, and instead chooses to nod every now and then, ask questions, look at Robert questioningly. He didn't mind knowing the things he already knew for eons.

 _Fae are downworlders._

 _Runes are applied with steles._

 _Some runes on mundanes create forsaken._

 _Oh, and ordinary humans are called mundanes._

All the usual stuff. Instead of _really_ listening to him speak, Anael watches Robert's movements, taking notes when his voice speeds up on a subject the man likes. Or when his knows sniffs when he's on a certain topic. All very human motions. Anael looks at the desk, staring at a gold-brown box with deep red wood embellishing the sides, framing the lid. A dark energy was coming from it.

"You seem more interested in that box than what I'm saying," Robert comments.

"I'm merely curious about it."

"It's a pyxis. Holds demons," Robert says, tapping the lid. Anael nods, turning to look around the room more. There were many interesting stuff. Weapons, each one very unique and individualized from all the others. A glass case holding a replica of the mortal cup. And, since it was a library, of course there are many books.

"Do you ever feel sorry for demons," Anael asks quickly. Robert shakes his head.

"Of course not. They sealed their own fate."

"I pity them, really," Anael says slowly. A moment of silence follows. "You are right though. They have sealed their own fate. Is it more humane to keep a demon trapped in a box for eternity, or let it loose in Hell?"

"I think it should be trapped. In Hell, it might find a way here, and destroy someone."

"That's is true. Do you think one can be happy with no money?"

"Why are you asking deep philosophical questions?" Robert looks at Anael, wearing a slight smile. "Are you always like this?"

"Sometimes. I'm not looking for an answer I can follow though. I'm looking for _your_ answer," Anael says, leaning back and touching the smooth desk. "What is your answer?"

"I'm not sure. I suppose, it is always possible. I think a majority of it is on your own perspective."

"I believe that anyone who gives will be blessed. That's what I believe," Anael says with a careful nod. Robert chuckles, his head shaking.

"I believe, as a shadowhunter, I have given enough."

"I'm sure your angel Raziel would be proud of you," Anael speaks back. Robert looks at him, his head tilting.

"You have a great way of speaking."

"Thank you." Anael says. Robert picks up a book, flipping through it. The silence that follows is comforting. Anael takes the moment to analyze the pyxis, wondering, just what that demon is doing in there. How it feels. The angel reaches out with his senses, and he can feel the demon's energy curl up from him, retreating, not wanting to associate with a heavenly being. Anael draws back.

"Father, why did you have to invite Simon," Isabelle says. Anael looks over his shoulder, seeing her eyebrows knit together, his upper lip curled just a tiny bit. Robert sighs loudly and sets his book down.

"I didn't invite him to aggravate you."

"Still," Isabelle sighs loudly, stopping in front of him with her hands on her hips. She looks over at Anael. "Hello."

"Hello," Anael says back smoothly. She smiles, looking at Robert.

"Need any work done today?"

"No, Isabelle. Enjoy your break for now," Robert says.

"Fine, fine," Isabelle nods, looking back at Anael. "Enjoying the lessons?"

"Most assuredly."

"That is good," Isabelle says, looking at her father, then back at Anael. She grins, slightly mischievous. Anael stares back, wondering what's on her mind. "Did you want to go on a date?"

"Isabelle," Robert exclaims, and she shrugs her shoulders.

"I'm not a child, father."

"Sometimes, I think you are."

"I think you'd be happy that I have asked a _mundane_ out," Isabelle says with a soft scoff, and Anael stifles a laugh. _A mundane._

"I would be glad to join you, Isabelle," Anael responds. Robert shakes his head, staring down at his daughter.

"If this is a way to get back a Simon, it's highly inappropriate."

"Yes, because everything is about getting back at Simon," Isabelle counters back. "Anyway, did you want to go out tonight, Anael?"

"I'd love to," Anael replies. Isabelle turns around and heads for the door.

"I'm going to see Clary. I'll talk to you later Anael." Isabelle exits, and Anael is left sitting there with Robert, who's shaking his head still. The angel smiles, looking at the desk. Has he really been asked out on a date?


End file.
